


Birth of a genius

by ColdeLinke



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birth, Fluff, French, Kid!Lock, kid!Sherlock, kid!mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 05:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1807918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdeLinke/pseuds/ColdeLinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If something happens to my little brother," he threatens, "I'll know that you lied."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birth of a genius

Mycroft is deeply asleep before he is shaken into awareness. After several seconds of dizziness and confusion, he sees his father standing in front of his bed, hair disheveled, eyes wide open, mouth ajar as if he is speaking, only Mycroft cannot hear a word he is saying. He understands however that he has to get up and follow him into a car. His father puts him in the front seat for the first time of his life and Mycroft, excited, smiles happily at him, understands that it is a special occasion. So special, in fact, that his mother is in the back seat, twisting in pain, growling at his father to hurry up, which he does. Mycroft wants to point out that he is going above the authorized limit but he doesn't want his mother to yell at him.

When they arrive at the hospital, calm-looking midwives take his mother in a room while his father parks the car. Mycroft thinks they looked a bit frantic, but maybe that's because they're tired. It is the middle of the night after all. They almost run to the room but someone tells his father that "the kid has to stay in the waiting room". His father looks at him with an apologetic expression but Mycroft understands. He nods, smiles at his dad and follows the nurse, still in his pajamas.

"There are toys in that corner, do you want something to drink? Or a pillow to sleep maybe?" she asks but he shakes his head and sits straight in the first chair, so that he can see the corridor in case something happens.

The nurse looks surprised but leaves him be. He stares at the closed door and sighs, he was hoping to be able to watch the corridor, he could always open the door again but he is fairly certain someone is going to close it up afterwards. Twenty minutes later, his father comes into the room to make sure he is okay and doesn't need anything.

"Gran will be there in two hours, alright? Will you be okay until then?"

"Yes Father," Mycroft says and said man ruffles his hair before leaving him behind.

Mycroft is pretty sure something is wrong. His little brother is not yet supposed to be coming, it is too early. He still has a month to develop his organs before he comes into this world. He opens the door and sneak a glance in the corridor. He sees a midwife walking out of his mother's room and goes to her.

"Is there something wrong?" he asks with narrowed eyes.

"Wha — Are you Mrs Holmes' first son?"

"I am," he stands straight, his hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the woman as she frowns at him.

"I think your father should tell you what's happening," she hesitantly smiles at him. He rolls his eyes.

"He won't, he thinks I'm too young to understand what is happening but I am perfectly capable. I think you should tell me."

"Well — hm — there is nothing wrong apart from the fact that your little brother will be premature. There might be some complications during the birth and some consequences after, but for now everything looks good," she answers after a few seconds of petrifaction. No one believes someone his age should know about these kind of things. Seven is not that young, is what he answers when the person hasn't turned their back to him yet.

"You're not that confident in it, are you?" he glares at her and her eyes widen. "If something happens to my little brother," he threatens, "I'll know that you lied."

He leaves her there, agape, and goes back into the waiting room. He sits quietly, ignores the toys and picks up a magazine on politics instead. He reads it halfheartedly, glancing from time to time at the door, wishing it would open and that someone would tell him what was happening in the other room. An hour and a half later, he hears a commotion in the hallway and he swallows nervously as he discreetly watches the situation. His mother on a bed is led in the lift, his father holding her hand as she cries out, midwives and a doctor following them. The door of the lift closes behind them leaves Mycroft standing there, scared. He tries not to think of what could happen to his brother and paces in the waiting room, trying to take his mind off things. It doesn't work that well.

Half an hour later, his grandmother joins him and starts a monologue he doesn't want to listen to but has to in case she says something important.

"— je ne pouvais pas y croire, sa femme qui le trompait avec le voisin, ah! quelle tragédie — et ils l'ont appelé Apollon, comme si c'était un Dieu! — alors je lui ai demandé "mais où trouves-tu ces idées?" et elle m'a répondu "chez mon frère" *rire*"

Mycroft is getting more and more desperate when his father comes in with a strained face.

"Violet is fine but Sherlock," Mycroft smiles hearing the name for the first time and pales at the idea that he might never see him, "has been brought to the prenatal care where pediatricians are making sure his heart is beating strong enough and that everything is going smoothly."

"But he is fine?" Mycroft inquires. His father smiles softly.

"Yes, he is going to be alright. He's a fighter," he sounds proud, Mycroft notices.

"Quand pouvons-nous le voir?" Mycroft's grandmother asks, waiting for Mycroft to translate so that the man can understand. She understands English but doesn't like to speak it.

"Très bientôt," his father answers with a very strong accent.

And indeed, half an hour later they enter the room where his — their — mother rests, Sherlock pressed against her chest, wrapped in a blanket. He already has some hair and his eyes are closed, Mycroft understands that he is sleeping based on his respiration.

"Can I hold him?" he whispers and Violet nods with a tired smile. He sits and his father puts the child in his arms, warning him to be careful with his head. He stares at the tiny human he is holding and almost cries, something he hasn't done in years.

"I'm going to protect you," he mutters fiercely, when he's sure no one is listening to him. "You're going to be cherished, happy and loved, you'll see. Sherlock. My little brother."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> "— je ne pouvais pas y croire, sa femme qui le trompait avec le voisin, ah! quelle tragédie — et ils l'ont appelé Apollon, comme si c'était un Dieu! — alors je lui ai demandé "mais où trouves-tu ces idées?" et elle m'a répondu "chez mon frère" *rire*" = " — I couldn't believe it, his wife was cheating on him with the neighbor, what a tragedy! — and they called him Apollon, as if he were a god! — then I asked her 'But where do you find these ideas?" and she said "at my brother's" *laughs*"
> 
> "Quand pouvons-nous le voir?" = "When can we see him?" 
> 
> "Très bientôt" = "Very soon"
> 
> I am not a doctor and although I have made research about premature kids and complications during birth, none of what I found interested me so this is all a bit... not accurate! Sorry about that!  
> If you want to complain (or send me some nice comments or just talk; also I take prompts): cursedangelbrokenman.tumblr.com :)


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